


Baby Mine

by Skybot



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Polyamory, Songfic, baby mine, cool moms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 21:34:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5601907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skybot/pseuds/Skybot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Songfic With parts of Baby Mine (sup Dumbo). How do the Hockey moms feel about their babies? A Short ficlet exploring the different ways some of the moms protect their sons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby Mine

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything. Hope you enjoy!

_Baby mine, don't you cry._   
_Baby mine, dry your eyes._   
_Rest your head close to my heart,_   
_Never to part,_   
_Baby of mine._

 

      Suzanne knew from the moment her Dicky came home crying from pewee football that Eric would never be the star quarterback that coach wanted him to be. She cradled his head close to her breast as she ran her fingers through Eric’s blonde hair.  
      “Come on baby. I’ll make your favorite: pie,” She didn’t wait for an answer before turning around to take out the flour. Suzanne mixed the dough, humming the most recent pop song to rock the charts and pretending to not notice the soft sniffles coming from the corner of the kitchen.  
      “Can you teach me?” It was a soft request, barely distinguishable from her humming, and Suzanne had to steel herself before turning around.  
      Dicky’s eyes were red and puffy, there were small streaks of barely dried tears running down his cheeks, and the tip of his nose was raw from his sleeve repeatedly rubbing against it.  
      “If you’re gonna bake, you best go and wash your hands.”

  
_Little one, when you play;_   
_Don't you mind what they say._   
_Let those eyes sparkle and shine,_   
_Never a tear,_   
_Baby of mine._

 

     Jack is breathing hard. The reporters won’t stop talking. His hands are shaking. The lights are too bright. The walls are too bright. His heart is too fast. His gown is bothering him. He needs to relax. He needs his pills. He can’t have them. He’s too cold. He can’t do this. He needs- he needs his mom.  
      “Mom,” it was a question, an exclamation, a statement; it said nothing and everything.  
      “Jack? What is it baby?” Her voice is shaking. He’s worrying her. She thinks he can’t make it. She probably is frowning. What if the reporters are right? What if- “…I tried this new wine. It was a dessert type or something, made from frozen grapes. It was really sweet, but I enjoyed it. Is there anything new you’ve tried lately?”  
      “I tried a… pumpkin spice latte. It was nice.”  
      “That’s good. Do you think you’ll drink another?”  
      “Maybe… Maman, what if I’m not enough… I”  
      “You’re everything you need to be.”

  
_If they knew sweet little you_   
_They'd end up loving you too._   
_All those same people who scold you;_   
_What they'd give just for the right to hold you._

 

     “Did you know he started dating a guy?”  
      “It’s not just a guy, it’s two!”  
      “How demented!”  
      “I know right; I hope it’s just a phase.”  
      Chowder tried to hide his face as he made a bee-line to the kitchen. He typically adored family gatherings; Chris would play with his little cousins, catch up with his aunts and uncles, and eat enough cocktail wieners to make Bitty faint. This year however, his cousins deemed him too big to play, and his aunts and uncles… well, they didn’t seem to want him there. At least he still had the cocktail wieners.  
      He burst through the kitchen’s swinging doors only to see his mom cutting vegetables.  
      “Sorry baby, your uncle just snagged the last of the wieners.”  
      That was it. Chowder could feel his face scrunch, and a steady stream of tears blurred his sight. Nothing about this party was ‘swasome.  
      “Chris? I… this isn’t about the sausages is it?”  
      “Do you think it’s weird that I’m dating Nur- Derek and William? I mean… it’s like different but I mean I heard Aunt Tessa say… I mean she didn’t say, but, well, no, she said, but-“  
      “Chris, look at me. You boys are wonderful together. Now, what did your aunt say?”

  
_From your head down to your toes,_   
_You're not much, goodness knows._   
_But you're so precious to me,_   
_Sweet as can be,_   
_Baby of mine._

 

     “I’m gay.”  
      Suzanne has fought for Dicky since the day he left her womb. She fought her parents to have him so young. She fought his father to name him what she wanted. She fought to keep him safe. She fought to let him figure skate. She fought to let him go to Samwell. She would be damned if she didn’t fight for him now.  
      “It’s just not right. I knew that he was different. Figure skating, baking, those pop songs- they made him this way. If I’d tried harder to get him involved in man stuff…”  
      “Are you done,” she can feel the ice in her voice, and she hates it, but this is her Dicky.  
      “You can’t tell me you agree with this!”  
      “Oh, yes I can! I love that boy no matter who he loves, and I can’t believe you are acting like this. How can you look at our son and believe that he’s anything less than perfect?”  
      “Suzanne I don’t hate the boy. I hate that he’s you know…”  
      “That’s a part of who he is though. You can’t truly love him while you hate a fundamental piece of his identity.”  
      “I… listen, I don’t got a personal hate it’s… it’s just wrong you know the bible-“  
      “Don’t give me that crap! You’ve said yourself how the bible is man’s words and not God’s. Besides, the bible has some messed up stuff in it, and you know it!”  
      “I know, but-“  
      “No. You learn to accept that boy, or I’m leaving. You better apologize to your son and his boyfriend in the morning. After all, we can’t have Jack thinking you’re homophobic scum.”

**Author's Note:**

> To lighten the mood: Were Jack and Bitty sharing a room/bed? Debate.


End file.
